


Friendship Bracelet

by Shamhat



Series: Mother Forking Paths [1]
Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Edward Cullen roasting, F/F, F/M, Forks is full of other magic shit, Human Bella Swan, Personal Growth, Regular Teenager Bella Swan, Twilight Renaissance, actual good best friend Jacob Black, bella might not be as straight as she thinks she is, sometimes a family is several supernatural beings and mean girls, this is a period piece of 2008, witch!Jessica Stanley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27630053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamhat/pseuds/Shamhat
Summary: In the spirit of expanding her Teenage Experience™ Bella tries to hang out with some of her actual teenage friends. Not just because the Cullens are barring her from their table.“We think,” Rosalie says, clasping her hands on the table, “It would be good if you had other friends when we graduate.”“Whoa,” Bella says because pump the brakes. She may have been eight at her father’s, but she knows what an Intervention looks like, “Hang on, I have other friends.”Jasper’s mouth does a disbelieving twitch before he can stop her from seeing it.“Of course you do, Bella.” Alice says, “And they’re going to love to see you.”“Yeah-,” Edward starts before Rosalie pops one of Emmett’s hard-boiled eggs into his mouth.“You don’t get a say,” Rosalie informs him.A 5+1
Relationships: Alice Cullen & Bella Swan, Bella Swan & Angela Weber, Bella Swan & Eric Yorkie, Bella Swan & Tyler Crowley, Jacob Black & Bella Swan, Jessica Stanley & Bella Swan, Mike Newton & Bella Swan, Past Edward Cullen/Bella Swan - Relationship, Rosalie Hale & Bella Swan
Series: Mother Forking Paths [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020190
Comments: 26
Kudos: 50





	1. Tuesday - Jessica

**Author's Note:**

> Like a grandmother on Thanksgiving, I have worked lovingly over this roast. But also like Thanksgiving, the roast may sit on the table in full view, but it's all about the side dishes. I give to you a meal of well-seasoned side dishes.
> 
> From the same universe as my A Word From The Side Lines one-shots. It's not necessary to read them, but they are fun.

“Bella, you’re gonna crush it,” Emmett says knocking his fist into his hand. “You just gotta go out there and hit them with that smile. Show em’ who you are.” 

“Who I am is someone who wants to eat lunch. Why can’t I sit down?” Bella says. 

“We think,” Rosalie says, clasping her hands on the table, “It would be good if you had other friends when we graduate.” 

“Whoa,” Bella says because pump the brakes. She may have been eight at her father’s, but she knows what an Intervention looks like, “Hang on, I have other friends.” 

Jasper’s mouth does a disbelieving twitch before he can stop her from seeing it. 

“Of course you do, Bella.” Alice says, “And they’re going to love to see you.” 

“Yeah-,” Edward starts before Rosalie pops one of Emmett’s hard-boiled eggs into his mouth. 

“You don’t get a say,” Rosalie informs him. “You,” She levels Bella a stern, flat look, which given everything Bella is forced to take as unimpressed support, “Friends. Find some.”

Bella feels sort of like a small duck being shooed by an apron. Alice gives her an encouraging, if confusing kiss on the cheek and waves her away from their table. 

So she’s doing an awkward bounce in place with her tray as she observes the lunchroom. Luckily, before she can start step-tapping, she’s intercepted by Angela on her way to her table, which, Bella recalls, had pre-Edward also been Bella’s table. Angela smiles and pushes up her glasses with the hand not holding her tray. 

“Hey, Bella.”

“It looks like I’m taking a break from, uh,” further examination shows the Cullens watching her progress intently like a bunch of eager helicopter parents, minus Edward who’s badly pretending to read a book with a fastidious little napkin full of chewed up hard-boiled egg near his elbow. “These guys.” She finishes. “Can I-,”

“Do you want to sit with us?” Angela says before she can finish. It's like someone twisted open a sprite cap in her chest. 

“Yeah,” she says, all bubbles. She doesn’t know why they’re laughing. Right, they talked at the same time. Cool. That’s fun, hey, that was easy! Bella has friends. Totally. Bella clears her throat and lets Angela lead the way to her table. 

Jessica rolls her eyes when she sees her, but makes room. Eric and Mike’s faces light up as they greet her with cheerful shouts. She sits gingerly next to Jessica, Angela on her other side. 

“What brings you to our end of the lunchroom, Bella?” Eric says. 

“Bella, Bella, _Bella_ , Bella!” Mike’s sing-song exclamation comes a little too late and a little too loud. 

“You done playing with vampires?” Jessica mutters stabbing at her salad. It has to be a joke, but her eyes lock on Jessica’s and they’re both deeply aware it’s not. 

“Just, uh, you know, didn’t want to forget you guys,” Bella says. Eric and Mike beam and Angela’s smile, if anything gets brighter. It’s exceptionally weird. 

“Well, we didn’t forget you-,” Mike enthusiastically mashes his grinning face directly into his sandwich without opening his mouth as someone nudges him bodily from behind. 

“Wow, looks like Bella got kicked out of the cult. I didn’t know they did that.” Lauren says as she passes. 

“Wow, Lauren those Juicy sweatpants really make it look like you know how to run without farting,” Jessica says. 

Lauren looks like she swallowed a bee. Jessica smiles with her lips closed, cheeks full of salad. 

“How’s being a bitch working out for you, Jessica?” Lauren says, not breaking her stride. 

“I should ask an expert, where’s your boyfriend?” Says Jessica. 

“Off existing, where’s yours?” Lauren makes a face like she’s gagging and crosses her eyes at her little mistake, “oops.” 

Bella hadn’t even been aware Jessica liked her enough to defend her. 

“Let’s circle back to the fact that you fart when you run.” Bella says, “Have you considered trying out for marching band? You could do percussion and wind.”

Lauren smiles and flips her off as she leaves.

“No really, that’s wild, is she medically ok?” Bella says turning back to a bright-eyed Jessica. 

“Pathologically? No. Physically, she did it like five times when we were in the sixth grade before she found out she has celiac. It's a real ripcord for when she gets too fuckin uppity.” Jessica shrugged. 

Bella has no idea how she missed Eric shooting Pepsi out his nose, but she’s sorry she did. He’s still laughing even while groaning in pain. Angela is fighting a losing battle with the giggles behind her hand. It’s all enough of a distraction at the table for Bella to lean into Jessica and say, “So you know about?” And dart her eyes toward the Cullens. 

“They’re pale, they’re cold, they don’t eat lunch, and they’re like twenty-five. They’re either vampires or anemic cops. This is Forks, what’s more likely?” 

“There’s other shit here?” Bella says. 

Jessica raises her eyebrows at her. 

Come to find Angela isn’t a witch as previously suspected. Jessica is. 

Jessica invites her over after school to make potions in her dad’s Blendtec while her parents are out. 

“It’ll make your skin amazing and it’ll also keep the mosquitos off. It tastes like a fucking potato cellar though so like, be warned.” 

Bella has spent a lot of time not being able to relate to Jessica. The reveal that she’s a witch doesn’t change that, but it does make the experience a lot more entertaining. They chug the grossest smoothie Bella’s ever drank in her life. Jessica gets it down like a champ, and not to be outdone Bella finishes hers too, she gags but fortunately nothing comes back up. 

“I fuckin knew they were vampires. Buncha creeps. Just sitting around perfectly still and like, badly pretending they remember how food works.” Jessica says wiping her chin with the heel of her hand. 

“They’re not all bad, and anyway, based on that smoothie I’m not sure you know how food works.” Bella runs her glass under hot water to be a good guest. Jessica takes the glass from her and refills it with sage lemonade from the fridge. As far as chasers go it’s a vastly superior brew. 

“Don’t you dare tell me Edward Cullen isn’t a nerd three seconds on 4chan away from burning the school down,” Jessica says, bracing her elbows on the countertop. She burps powerfully and her esteem in Bella’s eyes only raises. 

“He reads minds.”

“Fucking perv.” Jessica scoffs. “Come on I can do card readings with an Uno deck.” Which is something Bella needs to see with every fiber of her being. 

They lay on Jessica’s living room floor. She pulls all the trick cards out of the deck and hands them to Bella to shuffle while she tucks the others away. When Bella gives them back Jessica spreads them out on an old black bandana. With theatrical solemnity, she bids Bells to draw three cards. 

“Your past, a green reverse card. Green is an earth element. Something reliable from your past will return to you or you will return to it.

Your present, a red skip card. Red, fire. You’ve been leading with your pussy lately, we’re teenagers, it’s understandable, the cards say cut that shit out. 

Your future-,” 

Bella pulls a wildcard and Jessica laughs like it’s the funniest joke she’s ever heard. Which is no more revealing than any other future she’s had painted for her. She says as much to Jessica who stops laughing and says, “Well fuck, that’s cool.” 

They spend the rest of the evening playing Uno, going through Jessica’s crystal collection, and ordering pizza. It doesn’t suck.  
  
Which begs the question? Why didn’t anyone tell her how much this wouldn’t suck? 

* * *

“How come you never told me Jessica was a witch?” Bella sits on the kitchen island in the Cullen house, idly picking through a crystal bowl of mixed nuts. 

The kitchen has been stocked with healthy, non-perishable snacks that are also aesthetically appealing so that they can feed her without having to remember that she needs food. She feels a little like one of those dogs with the auto-filling bowls, but she is sitting next to one of the better trail mixes she’s ever had. There’s like dried pomegranates and stuff. She takes a cashew from one bowl and what may be potpourri from the other and pops them in her mouth. “I asked you upfront if any other weird stuff was going on in Forks.” 

“You asked if Angela was a witch.” Edward hedges. He’s standing on a corner sofa and dusting high in the corners in the living room. He does it in the sort of over-choreographed way of a dancer who’s too aware of their body to ever look natural. 

“You still didn’t answer either question. You read minds, you’re uniquely placed to point out cool stuff.” Bella says. 

“And yet he’s the least cool person who’s ever existed,” Rosalie says wandering by with a massive gold Starbucks travel cup- no doubt full of hot blood if the way Edward’s nostril’s flare is any indication, and several shopping bags. She sets a little blue one on Bella’s lap before disappearing upstairs to set down her things. 

“That’s impossible,” Bella says loyally, “You’re a telepathic vampire. You could do lots of cool things. Let’s see, you could be an indie music producer, you could spot if someone’s a good musician and make a song sound the way they want.” Bella says because maybe he’s been so broody he’s never actually thought about it. “Or like, you could like, go around town and interview secretly interesting people around Forks for the paper and ask them about their lives. Holy shit! you could be an amazing zookeeper.” 

Rosalie laughs from upstairs, not the sweet obviously fake one she uses with teachers, the mean, deep cackle. Bella is pleased to note that it isn’t at her expense.

She reappears leaning a hip on the kitchen island. Bella holds up the bag, this is for her? Rosalie winks, which Bella can’t think about right on the heels of her laugh. 

“As I said, she’s got a head full of thoughts. It literally took her two seconds to think of three hobbies you could be doing rather than,” Rosalie waves a dismissive hand that encompasses all of Edward while taking a long pull on her drink. 

Inside the little blue bag is a little blue box with a little white ribbon, like a present. Bella doesn’t really register that the blue of it is important until she opens the box. Then she’s pawing around to flip over the lid for the label, and then to inspect the bag, nearly dropping everything when the words on the bag, match up with the words on the box, match up with the little silver tennis bracelet inside the box made of fucking mithril and crumb sized actual diamonds. 

“This isn’t about me.” Edward prowls along the back of the couch to reach the next corner. 

“He says for once,” Rosalie mutters taking the bracelet out of the box and delicately fitting the clasp of it around Bella’s wrist. It's so not her, but she can’t deny that she’s flattered. 

“You’re right,” Bella says finding her footing in the sparkle of her wrist, “it’s about why you didn’t tell me that one of the kids at my new school was super cool, actually?” 

Edward sighs, hopping down from the couch with the duster, “Witches are dangerous, Bella.” 

“Oh come on!” Bella groans.

“Booo!” Rosalie says. She throws a handful of trail mix at Edward’s head with supernatural accuracy. 

Bella squints against the light and tries to make her voice sound like she’s choking, but doesn’t want to bother anyone about it, “ _Bella, you deserve a normal life. Bella, I’m too dangerous for you. Bella, you smell so good, your skin’s like freesia and I want to eat you so bad, but I’m not gonna. Bella, you should go to your school dance. Bella, you should be with your friends. Bella, I think that skirt’s a bad idea. Bella, careful I think Mike likes you._ ” It's a pretty good impression, she thinks. "It's like, make up your mind." 

Rosalie makes a delicate little hum like distant thunder at a picnic. 

"I don't see what's so compelling about putting yourself in concerning situations or why you want my assistance with it," Edward says. “And while we’re at it, this witch, in particular, is a very rude young woman. Her thoughts are nearly corrosive. I can’t imagine she’d be a good influence.” He turns with the duster in hand like a professor warming to his topic. Bella cuts in, this could last forever, he’s literally immortal and she won’t lose sight of her point. 

“How much other cool stuff do you know about Forks that you’ve put under the umbrella of “Too Dangerous” or like, “Undignified” or whatever?” Bella says. 

“You know, I’ve never once thought to ask you if a town had more to offer, on account of: you’re you?” Rosalie says picking at her, actually very sharp looking manicure. “I would be curious to know this as well.” 

Edward looks pinched and hunted. “There’s nothing cool about danger or-,” 

The trail mix makes a satisfying thwack sound as it pelts him. His mouth flattens at the mess on the floor. 

“Run along Bella dear, I’m sure someone will drive you home. I have some things to think at this gentleman while he does the laundry.” 

“But you’re doing laundry this week Rose-,” Rosalie tilts her head slightly and smiles. 

“I think Alice is already in the garage,” Edward says. 

“Yes,” Rosalie says. 

“Thanks for the bracelet, Rosalie,” Bella says hopping down from the island and gathering her backpack.

Rosalie makes a non-committal hum, waving her hand, not breaking eye contact with Edward. 

Bella knows when to make an exit.

  
  



	2. Wednesday- Work-Work! Eric! Tyler! (and mike)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wednesday, March 19, 2008 marks the first real day of Bella’s genuine effort to get to know the other humans at her school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know if I actually looked up high school lesson plans for these class projects? I sure did.  
> If you want to know how often I referred back and forth to the class schedule for these characters someone compiled? It was a lot.  
> If you want to know how weird I felt googling Forks High School's Bell Schedule for 2019? Very.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008 marks the first real day of Bella’s genuine effort to get to know the other humans at her school. For a moment she just stands near her truck like a girl without a date to Prom. The Cullen-Hales hop out of Edward’s Volvo and give her their approximations of supportive looks, all varying on a scale from total investment to absolute indifference. 

Bella hikes her backpack higher on her back and the gentle sparkle of the bracelet peeks out of her sleeve. The morning air is crisp and wet, the air smells new and green. 

ENGLISH

Even when Bella had been more involved in her friend’s lives, she hadn’t really gotten to know Eric well. Mr. Mason doesn’t do assigned seats, the desks are lined up in four horizontal rows facing the whiteboard. she takes the plunge and sits next to him in the back left of first period English earning her a glare from the girl who would have sat next to him. Bella’s never seen her before and they don’t eat lunch together. Bella waves at her apologetically and the girl takes the next seat over. 

They’re reading  _ Gatsby _ . Eric, while whispering and sharing his seaweed snacks, kindly catches Bella up on everything about himself from birth to the present day while Mr. Mason has the class popcorn read. She completely misses the book, but learns that his favorite food is sundubu-jjigae maangchi, 

“It’s like tofu soup, but not like miso.”

And his dad is teaching him how to make it. 

He was a big fan of Scooby-Doo and the Hardy Boys as a kid; His parents want him to be a doctor like his Aunt, but he’s,

“Thinking about being real funky and becoming a criminology major. If I do it quick, I can probably get away with a degree in two years before my parents find out.” 

“If you do some medical stuff you could probably sneak a few more years in to become a forensic scientist.” Bella whispers. 

“Gross. That would be awesome.” 

The rest of it is a high-speed flood of information that bounces off her brain on impact. High School Robotics Club robot battles, The Debate Team’s chances this year, the latest gossip in Mock Trial, and then she has to have the girl next to her point out where they are to Mr. Mason’s disappointment. Is there anything worse than disappointing an otherwise terse English teacher who has drawn smiley faces next to paragraphs in your papers? She reads from the paragraph the girl points to and the class titters as Mr. Mason stops her, 

“We’re about two paragraphs after that, Ms. Swan.” Bella glances at the girl next to her who is primly looking at her book, as though she’s waiting to continue. “Don’t look at her, Ms. Swan. Ms. Tate was on task, if you were paying attention instead of wasting time with Mr. Yorkie perhaps we would all be two paragraphs ahead and on with the book.” Then he asks Ms. Tate to continue reading. Anyway, it’s a very educational class period in a sense. 

GOVERNMENT

In Gov, they’re put into groups for a project where they have to build a metaphor or something. It’s not really clear until Mr. Jefferson, with the pride of a monk holding up a relic proudly displays a model of The Devil's Punch Bowl Bridge. It’s sort of dusty, but it’s a stupid-good model made out of popsicle sticks. It's carefully painted along the railing and support beams. There are even two fake banks on either side of the bridge with fake little trees and a blue river made of resin. 

“Made by one of my favorite students, our very own Chief of Police, Charles Swan.”

“Oh, no way,” Bella says. 

“You have until the end of the break to build, or create, or cook something to share with the class. Feel free to use this time to discuss with your groups” Says Mr. Jefferson. 

As the class begins speaking to one another Bella gets up to look closer at the model. Clearly labeled along the supports are neatly printed tags with things like “Fairness,” and “Food Access For All,” and “Living Wage.” He must have run out of ideas after a while, there are a lot of supports on the bridge because one says “Dr. Pepper for Charlie Swan.” It’s so cute it twists her heart. Everything about it is just so lovingly, carefully made. She takes a picture of the whole thing with her phone and then slides the keyboard open to set “Dr. Pepper for Charlie Swan,” as her dad’s new contact photo. 

“That’s really good.” Says a voice from behind her. Tyler Crowley looms large in his varsity jacket as he leans in and inspects the model. “Hey look there’s little hikers in the trees.” Bella looks where he points and sees two little painted q-tips with feet made out of halves of peanut shells. 

“Oh my god.” Bella whispers. She hadn’t even known her dad had hobbies beyond fishing. 

“Ours doesn’t have to be this good does it?” Says Tyler with a worried little pinch to his mouth. 

“Uh, definitely not,” Bella says. “This is amazing. Wait, look at the little whales in the water.” There are black triangles of plastic cutting through the resin. There’s even the shadowy suggestion of something large underneath the surface. 

There’s a nudge on her arm as Mike leans close to say, “Everyone waits, basically from freshman year for this assignment. It’s basically an excuse to have a class potluck. Pretty much everyone does a food project.” 

“Do you want to do a food project?” She asks Mike. 

“I mean, only if you do.” He says. Tyler looks amenable to it. 

“Food project it is.” Says Bella, “Any ideas?” 

“We can’t do dairy and if there’s bread it has to be whole wheat,” Tyler says. 

“Noted,” Bella says. They work together, trying to figure out possible recipes before Bella gets them to list things they’d like in a country. 

So far they have, 

Equal Pay: Bella. 

Free College and University: Mike. 

Free Gyms: Tyler.

“We can meet at my house tonight or tomorrow,” Bella says. 

“Practice.” They both say sheepishly. Bella wants to say,  _ what for, you didn’t even qualify _ , but she doesn’t because what does she know about the inner workings of sports? 

They agree to meet tomorrow morning before school at Bella’s house with supplies and have Bella bring in their project Friday. They make a note to set up a Facebook group to talk about recipes and project details. It’s not the worst group project Bella’s ever been in. Must be something about being a team player. 

She spends the rest of the period sat between Mike and Tyler as they talk over her head about sports while she catches up on Gatsby. Someone gently kicks her ankle, and she glances down to see Tyler’s long foot curled around her chair leg as his knee jostles. It’s an absent boyish thing he does as he balances his pencil under his nose and leans his head into his hand, just saying words Bella doesn’t understand in their particular configuration about football tactics. Maybe basketball? They might be talking about a totally different sport now. 

She reaches out and flicks the pencil from under his nose, just for goofs. He leans away with the softest look of surprise. His eyes widen with mock hurt and Mike laughs behind her. Her body is already shaking a little before she realizes she’s laughing too. Tyler uses his foot around her chair as an anchor as he leans to scoop up his pencil. His shirt rides up. Bella has eyes. She can admire a brown peek of abs. 

“Wow dude, that was like, graceful,” Mike says. Tyler preens.

“Yeah, it’s cause I’m an athlete.” He holds his pencil in his teeth and shifts his hands back and forth in front of him like a sprinter. 

“Gross, that was on the floor,” Bella says. He spits it out with sudden realization and his face screws up like a handsome cat eating a lemon. Tyler also does not suck. 

There’s a crunch from across the room and her eyes lock like a magnet on Edward’s nauseated face. She leans back in her seat at the look he gives her. Her back hits something soft and warm, someone’s arm. Mike’s it turns out. Edward is holding the remains of a BIC pen. Ink stains his hands and desk in sticky globs. He only glances at Mr. Jefferson before disappearing out the door, just on the too-quick edge of human walking-speed. 

Edward’s group notices enough to be annoyed by the mess before Mr. Jefferson hands them wipies and surface cleaner and leaves them to handle it. 

Mike and Tyler do not notice. When she focuses back on her group, Mike’s face is four inches away from hers. He has two pencils shoved up his nose like a weird walrus. She jumps half a foot out of her seat. It’s a pretty good bit, she won’t lie. 

Edward isn’t back when the bell goes off. 

Bella, Mike, and Tyler linger at their desks exchanging phone numbers. Bella takes a picture of Mike doing the pencil-nose thing for his contact photo, Tyler lifts an eyebrow like The Rock for his. Bella does a very respectable cross of the eyes for her own picture. 

As they gather their things for the end of class, two white arms snake around Tyler’s body. Suddenly, his whole face is even brighter. Lauren peeks her head around him, tossing her hair in a dry, dry waterfall over her shoulder. The smile she gives him when he lifts his arm to make room for her is like a flashback of a dead wife in a Nicholas Sparks movie. Her sweatshirt is ginormous and obviously Tyler’s. Her shorts are an unrecommended length for the climate- and that feels like such an Edward thought that she immediately stops thinking it.  _ What a bold choice. _ She thinks instead.  _ That’s the decision of a girl who knows her own mind and limitations. _

Lauren releases Tyler so he can finish gathering his stuff and her eyes catch on Bella’s wrist, on the little bracelet. 

“If you polish a turd you really can find a diamond.” 

And then Bella remembers,  _ oh yeah, fuck this chick. _

“You must get pretty rich washing out your underwear then,” Bella says. 

There are hastily covered snorts all around the room. Lauren looks thunderous. 

“You don’t even know me.” She says. 

“Thank you for bringing that up. I don’t know you. So why are we doing this?” Bella says hoisting her bag over her shoulder. Lauren’s lips have this shimmery wet shade of pink gloss. Lauren rolls her eyes. 

“You were cute when you were a virgin sacrifice, but being Jessica’s sloppy seconds? That’s sadder somehow.” 

“You think I’m cute?” Bella says before she can stop herself. 

“Bye Bella, I’ll text you later,” Tyler says. Popping up with his bag. 

“You really won’t,” Lauren says. 

“Oh, am I busy?” Tyler says with honest worry, “No breaks, no cheat days! I’ll text you project stuff when I know what’s up, Bella.” He and Lauren disappear into the crush of students in the hall. 

“He’s super nice.” Bella says, “Why is he with her?” 

Mike shrugs. “She’s hot. He’s a really simple guy once you get down to it.” 

Put that way, Bella guesses she understands. It's not like she can cast stones. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! A new chapter for American Thanksgiving! I just wanted to say I'm thankful to everyone who has enjoyed the fic so far! I’ve had so much fun working on this, and your reactions have really motivated me! I promise there is much more to come, and it WILL get wild. 
> 
> As much fun as I’ve been having, It didn’t feel ethical for me to be haha-ing and kiki-ing with you all without mentioning the needs of The Quileute Tribe, especially on a Holliday with roots like this one. 
> 
> Times are hard for all of us. Please feel no pressure or guilt to give if you ain’t got it like that right now.
> 
> For those of you who would like to help and don’t know where to start, I'll post a few links. 
> 
> The Quileute tribe needs money to move their people to higher ground and leave the tsunami zone. As the climate changes and ocean levels continue to rise, people who live in coastal areas like The Quileute people need our help. Many Twilight fans have already responded to the publication of Midnight Sun by matching the cost of their book purchase with a donation to Move To Higher Ground. Which is pretty cool. 
> 
> http://mthg.org
> 
> This second link is not to any particular charity so much as it is a resource guide from the Quileute tribe website for their people to access public services like  
> -The Food Bank  
> -The Senior Center, which provides food delivery and shower service for senior citizens  
> -Tribal School, which offers breakfast and lunch meals for attending students. 
> 
> In researching the area to write this fic I learned that there are only two convenience stores total in La Push and Forks. Both are about fifteen-twenty minutes apart, so making sure people have access to food during the pandemic is huge. 
> 
> The resource guide includes contact information. I’m sure any of these institutions would appreciate it if someone contacted with a donation. 
> 
> https://quileutenation.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/QTC-resource-guide-updates-1.pdf
> 
> But again times are tough. If you are unable to give right now, do not feel bad.


	3. Still Wednesday (Jessica)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love a list.  
> -fucked up my hand last week doing too much embroidery  
> -took a break  
> -finished editing this chapter and realized it was, what?  
> -short as a tea candle's dick  
> \- badaboom-badabing  
> -you get two chapters this week

In Biology class, there is a very fat corgi named Brucy. Edward holds Brucy when it is his turn. Vampire and dog both look supremely uncomfortable until Brucy practically folds in half, jackknifing to sneeze in Edward's face.

At the end of class, Bella lines up to wash her hands at the sink. Lauren makes a shitty comment about Bella's bracelet. Namely, the fucking erroneous supposition that Bella Swan may be possessed of butterfingers. Bella pointedly removes her bracelet and sets it behind the faucet. 

Brucy, the perfectly round corgi, bumps his big boy baby body against Bella’s leg. Bella is distracted by the fat corgi and then goes to gym class. 

These events will be permanently scored into Bella's brain tissue for the rest of her life like so:

Fat Corgi   
Class Sink  
Lauren Sucks  
Bracelet Off  
Wash Hands  
Fat Corgi  
Gym 

Where did she fuck up? Probably somewhere around Bracelet Off, which is not a super helpful thought. Bella takes a break in the middle of running The Mile in gym to brace her hands on her knees. She allows her terror to consume her. 

Rosalie will not eat Bella. This, Bella, is eighty-six percent sure of. 

Being eaten would be preferable.

Rosalie’s face will go blank, then unsurprised, and then she will say something about Bella that will haunt her for the rest of her life. 

Bella is on her deathbed, surrounded by loved ones and flowers, and with her final breath, she says, “Rosalie was right,” 

“What was Rosalie right about?” Her hot blue alien husband says, holding her hand. 

“I suck,” Bella wheezes. 

Jessica and Lauren zip by her, and she only catches the middle of their trash talk. 

“-onna shit your pants-,” 

“-Trip you right here in-,” 

Jessica is fast. 

Bella did not see that coming. It's as though all of the energy Jessica saves through sarcasm is suddenly released. Bella does not hate Lauren enough to run about it. 

“Swan! Knees up!” Coach Clapp shouts, “I don’t want to see you give up!” 

Bella is speeding up before she knows what she knows. She is propelled purely by a feeling, and it is that if anyone will know what to do, it is probably Jessica Stanley Teenage Witch. 

“Jessica!” Bella shouts. 

Bella is unable to say how she ends up nearly running into Jessica’s back. One minute she can see Lauren, stretching with smug victory at the finish line and Jessica wiping an arm under her nose. The next minute, she's holding Jessica's shoulders and panting in her face. 

“Jessica,” Bella gasps. 

“What,” Jessica says. She's glaring daggers at Lauren who's already swinging her ponytail back to the locker room. 

A loud clapping sound cracks across the field; Coach Clapp, like someone who's known her calling since birth, claps with an ear-busting, resounding fervor. 

“Excellent work, Bella. That’s the kind of hustle I like to see. Well done. 12:35 That is your best time yet!” 

Bella gives Coach Clapp a thumbs up with one hand and holds the stitch in her side with the other. 

“Fuck me, I think I’m cramping up. The bracelet. It's gone. Rosalie's gonna end me.” 

“Do you know where you left it?” Jessica says. 

“Bio,” Bella says. 

“So keep your tits on, we’ll check Bio,” Jessica says. She's perfectly reasonable and barely out of breath. 

“Did you do fast people magic?” Bella says. 

“No. I got kicked off of the track team because I have a bad attitude,” Jessica says. Which sucks. 

“But, you’re good at it,” Bella says, stupidly. 

“This is not the news you think it is.” Jessica avoids her eyes. “I’m talented in many ways. I contain multitudes. Come on. Clapp’ll let us go.” 

Bella, seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, follows Jessica to change in the locker rooms and hurry to Mr. Banner’s Bio Lab, where the bracelet-,

-isn’t. 

Even the fat corgi has been picked up and taken home. There is no silver lining. 

Bella leans against a wall in the hallway outside Mr. Banner’s classroom to catch her breath again. 

“You really should run more,” Jessica says. “Think. What do you remember?” 

Fat Corgi   
Class Sink  
Lauren Sucks  
Bracelet Off  
Wash Hands  
Fat Corgi  
Gym 

“Tell me more about Lauren Sucks,” Jessica says.

They’d been lining up for the sink, and Angela had leaned her head against Bella’s shoulder. Angela told Bella all about her aunt's dog. Lauren had just finished drying her hands and had paused to give Bella a helpful reminder that she was probably going to drop the bracelet down the sink. Bella flipped her off. Lauren said blah, blah, blah, Bella took off her bracelet, washed her hands, and got distracted by the fat corgi Mr. Banner had brought to class.

Jessica squints in thought, " So, we check lost and found first.” 

“First before what?” 

“First before we do anything else,” Jessica says. 

Lost and found produces no bracelet, but Jessica does find a pencil bag she lost in First Semester. 

“Ok. Murphy’s Law,” Jessica says, staring into that far off lip balm application place. 

“I think you mean Occam’s Razor,” Bella says. 

“I’m too pretty to know what you’re talking about,” Jessica says. She takes her pencil bag from under her arm and replaces the lip balm, “Anyway, I have an idea.” 

  
Jessica's idea involves Bella keeping watch in the hallway while Jessica spells open Lauren’s locker. Bella is officially in the Hands in Sleeves, Step-Tapping, No Chill portion of the proceedings. 

“Is it there?” Bella hisses. 

“No.” Jessica says, “Aha.” 

“You found it?” Bella says. 

“No.” 

Jessica closes Lauren’s locker holding something between her fingers. Bella gets close enough to see that it’s a long strand of dry blonde hair. 

“Jessica, in the short time I’ve known about you being a witch, you’ve made a lot of very funny jokes about _The Craft_. We’re not actually going to do the thing from _The Craft_ are we?” Bella says. 

“Fairuza Balk and Rachel True walked so that I can run, but no.” 

They lock themselves in a small two-person bathroom on the edge of campus and stuff a sink full of paper towels until it floods. Jessica pulls a sewing needle out of a little sewing kit in her backpack and rubs it with a locker magnet. Then she threads the hair through the needle and lays it on a piece of paper-towel she floats on the surface of the water before closing her eyes. Almost as a second thought, she takes Bella’s hand. 

“Where did you even learn this?” Bella whispers, her voice echoes off of the yellowy bathroom tile. 

“I found a forum.”

“Don’t you need like, a crystal, like on Charmed?” Bella says.”

“No, shut up. We can’t talk, or we’ll break the connection.” 

Bella snaps her mouth shut and stares at the water until gradually, the needle spins and stops pointing at the soap dispenser. Faint, like a broken TV, the picture just barely comes in. They squeeze each other's hands in a crushing grip as a proxy for the trapped sound of excited screaming. 

In the sink, Lauren texts someone with one hand. She looks bored as she lays back on her bed. She kicks her legs off the edge back and forth, pinching the skin of her stomach and her not unimpressive thighs in a way that is too much to look directly at. 

It's such a human thing. Bella can't remember Rosalie or Alice or Esme ever looking at themselves with that familiar thing. With editorial fashion criticism, maybe, but not this. 

Bella winces at Jessica, who squinches her eyes shut and concentrates on Lauren’s backpack. The image in the sink zooms through the fabric of the blue JanSport. The sun’s barely giving them enough light from inside in the bag, but they look through pencil cases and pockets. They sift through the weird, gross detritus at the bottom of any girl's bag. 

They find nothing. 

Jessica releases Bella’s hand, and the image in the sink water goes clear. 

“That was sad. That was like-,” Bella can't articulate what it was like.

“Eyes on the prize, Bella, she doesn’t have it.” 

“Fuck. That was amazing Jess,” The sink water is just brown paper towels and porcelain now. “Can you look for the bracelet itself?” 

“No," Jessica says. Bella finally focuses up and realizes how pale Jessica looks. 

Jessica clears her throat with a prim little sound and pukes abruptly into the sink.

"You need to drive me home. I am not collapsing on a high school bathroom floor.” 

“I got you.” 

Bella leaves the sink for someone else to clean up and pulls Jessica’s arm around her shoulder. When they make it to Bella’s truck, Jessica conks out immediately in the passenger seat. There’s clammy sweat around her face.

Bella finds Alice’s number instantly. 

“Bella, shouldn’t you be using your after school time to foster friendships?” Alice says in a fake stern voice. 

“Hey Alice, is it normal for someone to uh, barf and pass out after they do something psychic?” The line is quiet for a long time. “Alice?” 

There’s the sound of wind rushing over the phone. 

“Hang on, I’m going somewhere quiet. Are you hurt?” Alice says.

“No. We spied on someone, and then Jessica passed out in my car.”

“Spied on someone with magic?” Alice says. 

“It would appear that way, yes.” Says Bella refusing to take her eyes off Jessica. She's slumped in a distressing After School Special sort of way with her cheek pressed against the window. “That’s probably normal for someone just starting out, right?” 

“I don't know,” Alice says. Which is not what Bella wants to hear. 

“You didn’t do that?” Bella says. 

Alice sighs in a way that has to be more cathartic than functional. 

“I don’t know, Bella. It was a long time ago. I can look ahead and see if she’s ok?” 

“That would make me feel better actually,” The line is quiet again. “Alice?” 

“You should bring her over. I’ll call Carlisle.” 

“Shit.”

“It’s not bad-bad, but he would be able to tell better than I can over the phone.” 

"Okay,” Bella says. "Okay. Fuck.” She hangs up without saying goodbye and puts the truck into drive. 

* * *

  
“Bella,” Jessica says without opening her eyes.

“Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me Jess,” Bella says, grabbing her damp hand. 

“Why do I get the feeling we aren’t at my house?” 

“Because we aren’t,” Bella says. She can hear the guilt in her own voice. 

Jessica breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth. 

“If I open my eyes, am I going to have a headache?” 

“It’s pretty dim in here,” Bella says. Jessica blinks her eyes open cautiously, and when she finds that the low candlelight doesn’t hurt, she relaxes. 

“Bella, why are we in a Gossip Girl house?” Jessica says. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But NOW we're picking up the pace. But NOW we're cutting out two chapters of whatever the written down the equivalent of Regular-Ass High School Class ASMR is. It was very Junior Year-wave, very School-Core, very Long Day in a Hard Chair-Punk. We do intricate and irresponsible rituals in the school bathroom now.


	4. Wednesday-Thursday-Jessica and Angela

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters this week, one next week pending any more minor injuries

Carlisle’s study is wall to wall bookcases. There aren't even any windows. Edward had told her, her first time here, that it was to protect the books from light damage. Between the lack of windows and Vampire Sight, the study is gloomy, to say the least. 

Alice had picked Jessica up, ever so gently out of the passenger seat, and carried her up to the deep brown leather settee in Carlisle’s office. Jasper trailed close behind them with his arms loaded down with huge candles and a lighter gripped in his mouth. 

The Cullens, unused to having the lights on at night, had trouble locating the light switches. Bella found one that appeared to have been hidden behind a bookshelf too far away through a thin crack between wall and shelf to reach. 

Jasper had gone around placing candles around the room, on the floor, on Carlisle's skinny little desk that folded out of the wall, and on a bar stool from the kitchen. They were some of the tallest, fattest Pottery Barn catalog candles Bella had ever seen in her life. A few of them were the width of her waist. 

Jasper had flashed her a stiff thumbs up for luck before he darted back out of the study.

Carlisle had taken a sleek remote from one of the shelves with a grimace before he noticed an old leather-bound book. He pulled it down carefully and pressed a button on the remote. Thick glass quietly sealed the books in to protect them from even the suggestion of fire. 

One of the comfy looking reading chairs in the corner of the room was brought so that Bella could sit near Jessica.

Bella found out pretty quick that the reading chairs only looked comfy. 

Which probably means she’s got the shitty, hard-assed, cream-colored canvas chair with the soft throw blanket because she’s in trouble. Bella pulls the throw blanket over Jessica. Now that she's awake, she takes it gratefully. The Cullens don't use their heating either. 

“It might be wise to avoid screens and strong light until tomorrow,” Carlisle says. 

He paces his office and rubs his chin as he thinks. He pauses to flip carefully through the book. 

“I specialize in healing the body, not strictly speaking the mind.” 

Jessica picks the chocolate chips out of a crystal bowl of trail mix in her lap. Jessica, for her part, seems, distant, aloof. 

“Where did you find this spell?” Carlisle says. 

“Internet,” Sounds more childish in the dim echo of The Cullen house than it had in the school bathroom. 

“I did it,” Jessica says with grim triumph like that’s evidence enough that it wasn’t a bad decision. 

“To have succeeded in such an attempt is very impressive, but it was also very dangerous," Carlisle says, circling his desk and sitting on it. 

"Using your power should not drain you in this fashion. You were both very lucky. Did you think about what might have happened if you'd lost control of the spell? To you, to Bella, to the young lady that you were watching?” 

Jessica doesn't lose the defiant stiffness to her chin but she lowers her eyes to her hands. 

Alice slips back into the room and sits in the other uncomfortable chair. 

“Ladies, would you mind explaining why you were attempting to spy on a classmate in the privacy of their own home?” 

Jessica picks at the blanket over her knees and stays silent. Carlisle often holds himself like a dad, but she's only ever really seen the pale too composed twenty-three year old. The Dad is coming through pretty strong now. Bella glances at Alice who only looks curious. It's a tight look. 

She might actually be angry. 

“Is Rosalie home?” Bella says. 

“She’s out at the moment,” Carlisle says. “I can call her if it would help?”

“No!” Bella says too suddenly, and it’s immediately clear how much effort Carlisle and Alice take in making themselves seem more human. The idle scratching, the small adjustments in their seat, blinking. 

Bella swallows and says, “It’s really dumb.” 

They are infinitely patient. Bella goes with honesty. 

“Rosalie gave me a bracelet. It’s really nice and I lost it a day later like an idiot. I took it off once to wash my hands in Biology and didn’t notice it was gone. I’ve been looking everywhere. I searched the classroom, I asked the teacher, I retraced my steps, checked Lost and Found. 

Lauren, the girl, hates me for some reason. She said something dumb that made me think she might have taken it, but she didn’t have it. I just don’t want Rosalie to be disappointed in me. She’s been, you’ve all been so nice after everything.” 

Carlisle’s face softens. Alice just looks blank. 

"Thank you, Bella. I would hope that you understand that despite the conditions of our meeting, we all have come to care very much for you. A bracelet, however pretty does not mean more to any of us than your good health. If you are ever in need of help, no matter how small, I hope you know that you can call on us as friends." 

Carlisle is warm, and Bella refuses to cry about it. Alice's smile does not reach her eyes, but she nods in agreement. 

"You did the right thing by calling me." She says. Which makes Bella feel both more and less like a dumb kid at the same time. 

"Miss Stanley? I'd like to hear your side of things." Carlisle says not losing an ounce of warmth. 

Jessica gives him a look like, _you've got to be kidding me._ She looks at Bella and the door and does the math in her head. 

Magic Wammy + Vampire Speed = Not Getting Out of This One.

"I uh," she clears her throat, "I wasn't trying to hurt anyone. I was just trying to help. Lauren's a dick and," She doesn't look at Bella. "I didn't do it because of Lauren. Fuck Lauren. I used to be really good at shit. I'm really smart, like really fucking smart. Like, I Could Have Been Valedictorian- smart. I was on the track team, it wasn't going to get me a scholarship or anything, probably, but, maybe it could have? 

Then, my dad lost his job last semester, and everything's been sort of fucked since then. I started slipping. My grades are good, but not impressive. Do you even know what kind of striptease it takes to get into college these days if you aren't loaded? I got kicked off the track team because apparently, I'm, "Too Mean," and I, "Make The Other Girls Uncomfortable." 

I can't magic myself to college or magic my dad a job or whatever the fuck, but I'm good at it. Actually, for real fucking good at it. Better than the asshole chicks in gaucho pants in Port Angeles. I can do more than make fucking lotion and dick-shaped candles, and I proved it."

Carlisle is smiling at her sort of wistfully. He looks at the old book and chuckles. 

Jessica looks like she's trying to figure out how to punch a vampire. 

"I'm sorry, Miss Stanley. I'm not laughing at you. I'm just very old, and time is very weird. My father lost his job too. He was a holy man, but he was rigid, which for the time is really saying something. He was turned out by his parish, and he was never the same after. Eventually, he felt that he'd found his calling in witch finding. 

Please do not misunderstand, Miss Stanley, I do not hold any contempt for witches. My father kept this grimoire from an old healer. She had collected knowledge from the women in her village all her life. He gave it to me, I think, to burn. I did not. When I was turned, I took it with me."

Carlisle left and returned quickly with a box of medical gloves, which he handed to Jessica. 

"Vampire's hands don't secrete oil. Human hands are quite acidic to old texts," 

Jessica was still for a moment before springing into action and slipping on a pair of gloves. Carlisle held the book and let her turn the pages. 

"I can't read any of this," Jessica says. 

"It is a bit of a puzzle. It's quite archaic, and no one could spell. It's beyond even me, and I had a passing literacy at the time. I think some of it is coded. I've always wanted to get a translation."

Bella has never seen Jessica look more genuinely interested in something before. 

"Anyway, this text represents the lives, and work, and knowledge of women who questioned the world and didn't doubt their power to affect it. But they were careful." 

There's a scratchy illustration of a bird wing, first broken and then mended.

"These women had one another and past experience to draw from. Do you have a teacher?" Says Carlisle. 

"No," Jessica says. 

“You tried for a real doozie of a spell," Alice says softly. "Think about it like trying to do a backflip off a building onto concrete with no formal training. It’s possible to stick the landing, it is also possible that you could break your neck. You are very talented, Jessica finding a teacher to apprentice yourself to would only greater your potential and would be much safer for you and those around you.” 

“So where do I find a teacher? Could you-?” Jessica says, brightening up only slightly. 

“No,” Alice says firmly. Slowly, Alice relaxes her whole body. “My circumstances are unusual. I wouldn’t be much help to you. I don’t always have the option of voluntarily pursuing a vision."

“I saw more than I thought I would. It was like it filled up my head and barely spilled into the sink. It was a lot.” She brings her knees up to rest her face against them, blocking out the light and everyone else in the room again. 

“If I could give you one lesson, it’s this. Never, ever use your abilities in a way that will harm someone, that includes yourself. You only have your one mind. Cherish its health.” Alice says. 

Jessica meets her eyes and nods. 

“Oh, dear. Alice, I’m having an idea. Would you mind terribly letting me know if I will regret it?” Says Carlisle closing the book. 

Alice’s smile brightens. 

“That is a very good idea, I think. Jessica is a very bright young lady, and while I’m not the one to foster her talents, it would be a fabulous start.” 

Carlisle rubs his fingers against his thumb in thought. 

“While I am no expert in the field, I seem to recall there being one or two things about the health of magic users in this text. I think it might be more of use to a magic-user than to an untalented Witch Finder's son.” 

“You’re giving this to me?” Jessica says. Her eyes are saucers.

“This is a loan, and I expect to see it returned in perfect condition, or it will be removed from your person. Keep the box of gloves and let me know if you need any more.” Carlisle says. 

“Thank you,” Jessica says. She looks like she’s about to cry as Carlisle lists off rules for handling old books. Alice winks at Bella and looks pleased. 

“As for tonight, you shouldn’t be alone. It would be best if you were monitored. No more magic for a week while you regain your strength.” Carlisle says standing. 

“You could call your parents and tell them you’re staying at my house,” Bella says. 

Jessica looks even more surprised. She looks up at Bella from where she’s gently turning the pages with her gloved hands. 

“Sounds cool.” 

* * *

Jessica leans into the window of the booth at Pacific Pizza and puts her feet on her seat. Angela takes that as her cue to slide in next to Bella. Their thighs are warm where they press against one another. 

“So Lauren didn’t take your bracelet?” Angela says. 

“Probably, maybe, we don’t think so, but we’re not one hundred percent,” Bella says. 

“Why is this place so bright even when it’s raining?” Jessica says, clutching her sunglasses to her face. 

“And you’re certain someone took it? You didn’t leave it in the classroom?” Angela says. 

“Totally certain...ish,” Bella says. “It wasn’t in the classroom, and Mr. Banner didn’t remember anything about it when I asked him,” Bella says. 

“And I’m guessing the spell didn’t go very well,” Angela says, which stops them up short for so long the server comes back and puts down their food. 

“It’s not like you whisper.” Angela finally says, taking a bite of her Club Panini. 

“So you know? About everything?” Jessica says. 

“I’ve been sitting right by you at lunch all week. Anyway, why don’t you just ask Edward to find out who took it.” 

“I guess I could call him,” Bella says. 

“He’s outside,” Angela says. Jessica and Bella are suddenly plastered to the window. Well, Bella is. Jessica bounces off of it cupping her hands around her glasses as soon as she registers the harsh glow of the overcast sunlight. 

There he actually is, in the parking lot, on the green patch of grass just under the Pacific Pizza sign. Bella has... she doesn’t know what to call it. Just a feeling. She brushes it off immediately and walks out of the diner to corner the least threatening vampire in the world. 

“Edward.” She calls. 

He’s staring at his phone. It could be that he’s meeting someone; Jasper or something. 

When he glances up his jaw is gritted, tense. 

“Glad you’re here. Did you hear any of that?” She asks, pointing a thumb back at the diner. She steps up with him on the green patch as the water drizzles down on them. 

“Hear what?” He says. 

“I could use your help.” That softens all of his edges. His eyes flash under the cloud cover. Gold enough to be in a small building with people, Bella judges. 

“Anything.” He whispers. 

“Great, cool, right.” Says Bella. “Come in.” 

Edward follows her into the restaurant, taking an empty booth table for himself. Bella glances at Jessica and Angela, who give her twin looks of confusion. She frowns back at them but holds up a finger for them to wait. She sits with Edward. 

“So, we’re pretty sure Lauren, Tyler, and a few kids from school are going to be here soon. If I ask her some questions, can you take a look at her thoughts?” 

“Bella, that’s highly invasive. I can’t be a party to your little feud with this girl. It’s unbecoming of both of us.” He says. 

“Ok, this really isn’t about that. I’m trying to find something before something, probably worse happens. I just want to see if Lauren’s seen it. She was the last person I know who might know where it’s gone.” 

“What are you looking for exactly?” 

“I want to tell you but I’m also too worried about you slipping and telling someone.” 

“Bella if you want me to help you have to tell me what’s happening,” Edward says, balling his fist on the table. 

“Fine, you know that bracelet Rosalie gave me on literally Tuesday? Well, I lost it immediately on Wednesday. We’ve been looking for it since. She’s going to think I’m such an asshole if I don’t find it.” She is already deeply aware that she is a flakey teenager; she doesn't need to fuck up an expensive gift as a reminder. 

Edward glances at Jessica and Angela and does a double-take, as though he’s listening closer. 

“Edward?” She says. 

“They’re just singing in their heads,” Edward says in confusion. 

“What song?” 

“Jessica is doing, I think it’s called Toxic? And Angela’s doing Dancing Queen.” 

“Weird, so can you help?” Bella says. The bell on the door jangles, letting a cloud of voices come rushing in. A bunch of football guys and some girls who Bella is pretty sure go to her school based on the Uggs, but has never seen before in her life besides Lauren. 

“Ok so these shoes are the comfiest, but they’re tissue paper in the rain.” Says a short Asian girl in pajama pants. 

“I swear to god,” Lauren says, “It's like walking on a wet dog,”

Bella has been entertaining feelings of empathy, or, like, teenage-girl fellow-feeling after seeing Jessica’s vision of her. Like, maybe she was just a girl, and she wasn’t handling it very well. 

Maybe, under the miasma of Bad Personality, there was something there that was the same as Bella. 

“Ugh. Gross, I eat here,”

And suddenly, Bella realizes that she’s being watched back. With the creeping feeling that she’s reading the wrong book in Carlisle’s library out loud, she waves Lauren over. 

Lauren bobs and weaves through some football guys until she gets to her football guy and ducks under his arm to give him her order. He pecks a little kiss on the top of her head, and she comes back out to cause trouble. She's fucking ridiculous. 

“Well, well, well, little miss Stockholm Syndrome. Look who’s gone crawling back to her captors,” 

Edward makes a face somewhere between constipation and bitterness. 

“Oh. No-,” Bella starts, but she’s pounced on eagerly. 

“Couldn’t get Powder to take you back? Unforch,” Lauren says. 

“Yeah, we’re fuckin star-crossed,” Bella kicks Edward’s leg under the table to pay attention and has to cover up a yelp. 

“Look! You know that bracelet I had the other day, the little silver one? I’ve been looking everywhere for it. You haven’t seen it have you?” 

“This is why you can’t have nice things,” Lauren says. “You’re butch. Stick to, I don’t know, loose strips of leather or like, Cheerios on a string.” 

“God, you suck.” Bella sighs. “That’s a No? You haven’t seen it?” 

“No, Sméagol, I have not.” 

“Well, that’s all from me. Anything you want to add?” Bella says. 

“You have bad eyebrows,” Lauren says, thankful for the invitation. 

“All right, thank you for your assistance. Hey, did you know Tyler is an amazing baker? You should get him to make cookies for you sometime. My house smelled amazing this morning.” It’s cruel, and Lauren’s face curdles faster than deviled eggs on a hot street. She whips her head around to look at Tyler, who is laughing with his friends, and back at Bella.

“I _know_ that!” She says in a very unconvincing hiss. Lauren plows through the crowd, squelching in her Uggs, and burrows under her boyfriend’s arm. 

“Did you get anything out of that?” Bella says. 

“Her mind is like touching molten metal.” Edward winces, rubbing his temple. “She doesn’t like you.” 

“Oh, no way?” Bella says, leaning back in her seat and kicking her still throbbing foot up next to him.

“Before you got here, she felt secure that she was the prettiest girl in school. Besides Rosalie, who is safely aloof and spoken for. Now -what with our brief past and recent separation- she feels that you have the ability to sway Tyler away from her.” 

Edward fiddles with some sugar packets. He pinches four between thumb and forefinger.

“This can’t all be about Tyler,” Bella says. “That’s insane.” 

“I’m only catching the surface stuff. To go deeper would do damage. To me, if that wasn’t clear.” 

“So did the surface stuff tell you anything about the bracelet?” 

He strokes the press-sealed paper edges with his other hand. 

“She was jealous of it. It’s the kind of thing she would want but could never have. She feels that you have a lot of things that she wants but could never have, but she didn’t take your bracelet off the sink in Bio.” 

His thumb punctures the paper. He keeps his thumb there, trying to staunch the hemorrhaging flow of the sugar. He gives up and stuffs the whole spilling wad of it into his pocket.

“Huh, thanks, Edward. That girl has a lot going on. I don’t know why she’s taking it out on me.” 

Edward covers her hand, it's cool and gentle, stuck with speckled grains of sugar.

He says, “You’re a rare sort of girl, Bella Swan, and everyone can tell.” 

His eyes bore into hers. 

A niggling memory of being twelve and trying to convince the boys in her middle school that she didn’t care about makeup, surfaces from the depths it was shoved in. 

Bella slips her hands out from under Edward’s, a blush creeping up her cheeks. 

Finding out that her first real boyfriend was not in fact interested in being her boyfriend was a pretty solid contender for the shittiest thing that had happened to her since she moved to Forks. 

That he only really cared about getting close enough to her to test his power on her, that she was more of a fascination than a girlfriend. That she’d been open and ready, had shown him something Bambi-vulnerable on shaky legs. That is was something he never wanted, maybe or something that had made him uncomfortable. Or that she had made the sort of fool of herself that filled everyone within radius with pity? 

That had kept her under her quilt for a while. 

Her grades had slipped, and Alice had come by to study with her. Rosalie had sent her a crisp fancy box of macarons. Emmett had driven her to get a smoothie once. All the way to Port Angeles and back, chattering with her easily about everything and nothing. Jasper had given her a firm thumbs up one day in the halls. 

It hurt less, to know that they didn’t think she was just some dumb kid. It never seemed like pity, and actually spending time around her other friends had been more of a relief than she’d realized. 

Being around Edward now was awkward. It had always been awkward, but she had thought that he was at least into her. This? The hand touching, the whispering? She didn’t know what this was. 

“Well, where are we going?” Jessica is sitting on the edge of the table and shoving her glasses more firmly on her face. Angela has all of their food boxed up and in a plastic bag. “My vote is back to my place so I can get into that book while the light’s good.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Bella says. A squeezing sensation around her lungs is released. 

“Carlisle gave you one of his books?” Edward says, skimming Jessica’s mind. He makes a face like someone’s flicked his nose when Jessica turns to look at him. 

“Yeah, we dropped by yesterday,” Bella says, getting up. Angela also has Bella’s bag. 

“Carlisle doesn’t give anyone his books,” Edward says. 

“Well, obviously I’m going to give it back when I’m done,” Jessica says rolling her eyes. “You’re driving Bella.” Jessica herds them out the door. 

They’re on the road halfway to Jessica’s house when Bella says, 

“Thank you.”

“Whatever. Angela thought you could use an assist. Was that cool?” Jessica says. Angela's eyes are big and brown and concerned behind her glasses, her smile is soft. 

“Yeah, that was cool,” Bella says. She’d frozen, and she hadn’t known why. It was just Edward. 

“So what did he say about Lauren?” Angela says. 

“He said she didn’t take it off the sink...in Bio,” Bella says. She nearly hits the breaks as her heart thuds in her chest. “Did either of you think about the bracelet, about me losing it while he was there? He said you were singing in your heads.” 

“It was Jessica’s idea.” Angela says, “Did it work?” 

“I think so,” Bella says.

“What?” Jessica says. She’s squinting at Bella through her sunglasses, curled in the passenger side. “You look like you forgot to wear a pad.” 

“I didn’t tell him that I thought I lost the bracelet in bio,” Bella says. Jessica’s eyebrows raise. 

“Oh,” she says. In the rearview Angela looks sort of how Bella feels. 

“So he could have gotten it from Lauren,” Jessica says, but she doesn’t look convinced. "Or heard it when he was standing outside?"

“Why wouldn’t he just tell you he knew where it was when you asked him?” Angela says saying what Bella doesn’t want to be thinking because it’s dumb. Because what would it matter to him? It’s a stupid bracelet. A stupid, pretty bracelet. She’s pretty sure Tiffany’s doesn’t go around cursing their shit. She's even more sure that Rosalie wouldn’t give her fucked up jewelry, if only out of personal pride. 

They drove in silence until Jessica reached out to turn on the radio, flooding the car with Flo-Rida. It was hard to have a crisis while somewhere a mythical fur-booted shorty was getting low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low. 


	5. Friday- Jacob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought I was going to disappear off the face of the planet? You thought I forgot? You thought Jacob would never come into play? You thought my hands fell off at the wrist? You thought I was about to orphan this bad boy? January 6/7 was just gonna be ugly? You thought wrong!
> 
> This chapter is disrespectfully short for how long I was gone, but I'm glad I took the time because I only learned some stuff that boosted the chapter in an important way the other day. 
> 
> Anyway, here it is.

Bella really never thought about how dirty stores are. The linoleum is covered in a fine dust layer of scuff marks and just, truly upsetting tumbleweeds of hairballs stuck under shelves by jagged edges and too-dark sticky patches. She would love to go back and cherish her ignorance. 

Forks is a small place. It's not Everyone Knows Everyone, Hallmark Movie- small, but it is small enough that robbing the Thriftway feels like a weird move. This isn't the only convenience store, but it’s close. Port Angeles is like, an hour away. At least the gas station. Fuck Shell and 76, rob _them_. Robbing the Thriftwayd and this might just be the Arizona talking because Arizona doesn't have cute little Thriftways— just feels wrong. Like your neighbor walking into your house without pants to use your bathroom, and deciding to eat your leftovers without washing his hands. It’s goddamn unseemly, is what it is. If that weren’t enough, the man’s entire operation seems, in a Sheriff's daughter’s humble opinion, a tad over-ambitious for the venue. 

The guy has a knitted pastel pink balaclava made from a beanie, fraying at hand-cut eye holes; he has gardening gloves and a long-sleeved white shirt; he has jeans and good running shoes. None of it would be easy to distinguish him if he escaped and removed the gloves and ski mask. He’d thought so much about what he'd wear to this robbery and yet thought about none of the logistics. 

He had taken their phones, which was smart but sucked. Bella’s new phone had been taken. She’d just gotten it after she’d lost her really awful Nokia. That wasn’t fair to the Nokia it was a sweetheart. It had a lot of life left in it. It was just old. She can’t call for help is the thing, and Alice can’t see her in visions, so she‘s just on the floor with everyone who didn't realize they were actually being robbed and not just yelled at by a random guy. 

They're laying on their stomachs in front of the aisles spread out far enough not to be able to whisper, but close enough that he has everyone in his line of sight. She has an intimate view of a wall of salsa. 

There is a distinct crinkle in the quiet of the store. Just under the sound of a cashier stammering for his life is the sound of a gentle crunch. It lights up Bella's hindbrain receptors for kids who've snuck their food into a No Eating class. Bella's Can I Have Some senses are tingling, and it doesn't take long to spot what set them off. 

There is a kid just eating Takis on the floor. 

He’s got the bag opened between his thigh and the shelf, and he’s watching the robber hawkeyed like he’s cheating on a test. He slips a Taki into the pocket of his cheek. 

Bella makes a quiet sniffle sound to get his attention. When that doesn't work, she reaches out the toe of her boot and nudges his shoulder. When she gets his attention, she holds up a hand, a clear universal sign for _what the fuck?_

He looks around to check if the coast is clear and holds out the bag. 

The aisle isn’t that big. She dusts her hand on the butt of her jeans and takes one. He smiles. 

The kid’s long dark hair is tucked in the back of his shirt so it won’t get dirty, which she wishes she would have thought of. They share the bag of Takis between them and make faces at each other about the robber like _alright guy, get on with it._ Because little known fact, being a hostage in a robbery is boring. She wants her phone at this point just to let her fingers do their usual wander to check one more time, and see if her new phone has Snake. It’s not like the robber is even intimidating. Like, it's just a guy with a gun. Bella looks closer to check for scales or something, but it is literally just a guy. 

“Wish we were by the Arizonas.” The kid whispers. And suddenly, his features assemble into something familiar. She’s knocked back by memories of being six, seven, eight running around with a funny kid who ate all the grape skittles so that she didn’t have to. 

“Jacob!” she whispers. 

“What? Oh shit, Bella!” he whispers. The years loom between them, almost a decade, which Jesus, time, you know? They reach out to maybe hug or something before remembering they’re on the floor for a reason, _robbery_ , right. They kick each other eagerly before the robber comes by to see what all the shoving is about. He waves his gun in their faces. It fails to impress. Then he takes their fucking Takis because he’s an asshole. 

That’s Reason Number One he’s an asshole. 

Just under that: Reason Number Two is that he hasn’t fucking gotten the money and left yet. She can hear the cashier explaining that there’s not a lot in the register right now because they just got done doing the thing where they bag up the shift’s earnings and put them in the back. Which the robber didn’t know because he didn’t case the place, so now he’s stuck trying to figure out how to get a chicken, a scorpion, and a cat across a river in a canoe on a time crunch. 

If he leaves with the other cashier to go to the manager’s office, everyone can just get up, and go home, and call the cops— here's Reason Number Three— who are four minutes up Forks Ave's ass and around the corner, then he’s lost his hostages and the money. If he hangs out here with his dick in his hand, he’ll get caught because whoever he sends to get the bag can just call to make sure help's coming with the office phone. At the moment, he hasn’t gotten a big enough payout from what's left in the registers to make this all worth it. 

It’s a real fuckin conundrum. A real puzzle that could have been solved on the corkboard at home. Now, Bella’s on the floor in the Thriftway tending to a vast, freshly awoken hunger for Takis that has been denied before it could be truly slated. 

“Boo!” Someone warbles. Bella peeks around, lifting her head slightly. “Boo! You’re terrible!” 

An old woman Bella sees at the bank sometimes is in her pajamas on the floor, near some magazines. 

“Hey lady-,” the robber starts, 

“Boo!” Someone else says. 

Bella can’t tell what expression is on her face, but it’s probably something like Jacob’s shaking tearful laughter. And then the whole Thriftway is booing the robber until he reminds them all that he has a gun by shooting it at a shelf full of water bottles. That aisle floods. Bella can only speak for herself, but she gets the impression that everyone feels like he’s being a bad sport. 

Bella props her brow on her fist and glances back at Jacob when she hears another crinkle. He’s opened up a bag of cheese puffs. Bella fully doesn’t know why she hasn’t called this guy in the last few months she’s been here. 

They end up quietly playing a couple of distance games of sticks with their fingers. The score is at five: Bella-four: Jacob until eventually there’s a woop _-_ woop of sirens outside, and the man is rounded up mid-head-scratcher. There are cheers of the same tone and timbre as those of people who clap when a plane lands.

Jacob offers her a hand up, even though they’re the same height, and she probably has twenty pounds on him and wraps her up in a hug. He laughs, and his voice is a crackling T-Pain autotune fluctuating between the kid she played with and the man he'll be. 

“Man, fuck the Thriftway.” He says grinning, “Shit’s overpriced anyway.” 

“It was kind of a shit plan,” Bella says, “It's not like he needed to be Danny Ocean, it’s the Thriftway."

“And yet he’s a legend,” Jacobs says. 

They lead the guy out with his hands cuffed. 

“I’ll tell your story!” Jacob calls out to him, which makes Bella cackle. “My dad mentioned you were back,” He says now that they can talk at full volume. “I feel like such a dick, I’ve been meaning to say hi but-,” 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve been busy with stuff anyway,” Bella says. “Have you eaten, like actual food?” 

Bella pays for the chips because she’s paranoid about also being arrested for robbery, which is to say she leaves five bucks at one of the registers. Someone is calling the two cashiers heroes, like stumping the robber was a genius move to stall for time rather than just a matter of explaining logistics to a dumbass. 

“I was actually just about to come and drop my dad off at your place.” Jacob says, leading her out of the automatic doors, “I just came in to get snacks.” 

“Right, the card game,” Bella says. 

“Bella?” her dad is there suddenly, pulling her into his chest. His face is clammy against her forehead, and she realizes with an awful lurch that he’s been crying. His mustache catches in her hair as he kisses her head. “Are you okay? Were you hurt? We heard gunshots.” 

“I’m fine. Look, I found Jacob.” Her dad looks up and pulls Jacob into the hug as well. 

“Jesus kid, your dad called, and my heart stopped. I was shitting a brick thinking about you in there. I didn’t even know Bella was in there too.” 

“Do we get shock blankets?” Bella says. 

“Are you in shock?” Her dad says. 

“No.” Bella feels sort of amped, actually. Like she has enough energy to take a crack at The Mile again. She should tell Jessica she might be into running now.

“Wait, that guy took our phones,” Bella recalls. 

“Hey, yeah!” Jacob says. 

“Really? You care about your dang phones right now?” 

Bella glances at Jacob, and he looks as confused as she feels. Her dad pulls them both back into a warm hug, pressing their heads to his chest. 

“I love you,” he says, “I can’t stand either of you, but I’m glad you’re both okay.” 

Billy is there then. It was bad enough seeing her dad crying, but Billy isn’t even crying. He’s shaking like he’ll break at any moment. He looks Jacob over for a long while before drawing him down into a hug. 

“Fuck the Thriftway,” Billy says with passion.   
“Fuck the Thriftway.” Jacob echos. 

“Come on, they just got robbed.” Bella’s dad says.   
Billy pulls back from Jacob and gives Bella’s dad A Look. 

“Hey, next time you have to drive to Port Angeles because the bananas are at a 45% price difference, you let me know how impressed you are with the Thriftway.”

When you put it that way, maybe Pink Ski Mask really was a folk hero? Maybe fuck the Thriftway? 

Bella catches a flash of something pale and familiar out of the corner of her eye.

Edward is standing at the edge of the parking lot, watching her. His fists clench and release, clench and release. 

She thinks about asking him to vampire speed her five bucks back to her from the cashier. She doesn’t. She doesn’t say anything to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's one more chapter left and the next fic is already on deck in the editing bay. I wanted to say a quick thank you to my friends who cheered me on writing this. 
> 
> And then I really want to shout out everyone who commented. I can't tell you how that boosted my morale and kept me working on this thing. I appreciate it so, so much. 
> 
> But most of all, these last two chapters go out to the subscribers, because I found out there's a stats button on this thing last night and checked it out of curiosity. That was the most flattering, humbling shit I've ever seen, and ultimately knowing there were people who wanted to know what happened next made this chapter happen. Thank you so much. 
> 
> I'm not sure when the last chapter is going to be done. I'm really nitpicking it. If it's not this week, then it'll be next week. And then of course after that is the next fic which I'm really excited about.


	6. +1 Vampires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Last chapter! The first fic is done!

  
She doesn't invite Edward over to ask him why he's in the parking lot, and he doesn't offer an explanation. There's no way to pretend that they haven't seen one another outside the Thriftway, so she doesn't mention it. She exchanges numbers with Jacob and finally makes it home around six pm. The sun is down, and the day is gone. Her dad gets the rest of the evening off and lets his deputy handle taking in the guy. The electric sugar high that kept her afloat seeps out of her like the whining-fart of a party balloon. She falls asleep face down in bed and doesn't wake up until the afternoon. Being a hostage is hard work. 

* * *

**To: Alice Cullen, Rosalie Hale**   
**From: Bella**

~~Hey! We should hang out today!~~

~~Hey! Are you guys free today?~~

any plans today? 

  
**To: Alice Cullen, Bella Swan**   
**From: Rosalie Hale**

Busy all morning. 

Be home later this afternoon. 

  
**To: Rosalie Hale, Bella Swan**   
**From: Alice Cullen**

come over! 

I’m going to be working in the garage! would love the company 

<3

* * *

Bella’s car rumbles to a stop on the Cullen driveway. It really is a fancy as fuck place. Bella couldn’t work out for the longest time what architect would build an art piece in the middle of nowhere, then she’d figured it was just the sort of thing super-rich people would go for. Then she realized the Cullens had probably had the place commissioned when they decided to move back. It’s all too new. Even in all the Washington rain, it doesn’t have the same soggy broken-in feeling as the rest of the town. 

Anyone home probably already knows she’s here, but it feels good to slam the car door shut. She follows the gravel path around to the massive garage housing eight beautiful cars. Well, four beautiful cars and four soccer mom cars. Alice is doing something mysterious and arcane with a silver motorcycle straight out of a Fast and the Furious movie. 

“Alice?” Bella says. 

“Hey, I’m glad you’re here. If you see Jasper between now and your death do not tell him I was messing around with his bike.” 

“No problem,” Bella says. 

“He swears up and down that he knows how to take care of it, he was a mechanic for fifteen years, but that was forever ago, and this little guy’s a _baby_!” Alice says as she yanks something important-looking out and tips liquid out of it. 

“He’s not home right now?” Bella says. 

“Jasper? No. It's just you, me, and Esme. She’s in the library doing the books.” 

“I’ll go say hi,” Bella says. 

“Sure,” Alice says, deeply distracted by the inner workings of the bike. Whatever she’s doing, her hands move quick and light. It’s mesmerizing, watching the pieces of a thing come back together in fast forward. 

Bella makes her way into the house and puts her lunch pail in the fridge with the blood. There’s only so much trail mix a person can be expected to eat. 

The first time she had visited the Cullen’s, Edward had shown her his room, just before dinner. It’s on the third floor. Vampire stamina is obnoxious. 

She finds his room easily. The door is standing open. The room is sleek and has very little in it, the piano, the books, the big leather fainting couch, the closet with two pairs of pants and five shirts. She runs her hands down the front of the shirt pockets and down the line of the pants. His shoes, there’s only one other pair, shiny black dress shoes, are huge. 

There’s no bed. Of course, vampires don’t need to sleep, but it’s odd not to just have one. For comfort. 

Every surface in the room is shiny and empty. The bookcases are clean and free of dust. Each bound spine covered in well cared for fabric. There’s a slight fade to the spines compared to the dark places where they press together. 

The piano is glossy, free of any fingerprints. She tips open the cover on the keys with her sweater over her hand. 

He’d played for her, that first time. He was really talented. She closes the cover again and opens the piano bench. Sheaves of crisp heavy paper covered in neat hand-written music fill the bench. Where did anyone even find parchment? She can’t read music, the titles are in English and Italian. Her eyes catch on one called Bella’s Lullaby. She puts the parchment back quickly when she hears a rattle. Carefully, she lifts all of the sheet music out of the bench, so that none of it shifts out of order. There’s a sparkle in the corner of the bench-well. 

“Bella?” 

Esme’s voice rings down the hall. She stuffs the bracelet into her pocket and puts everything back carefully, shutting the bench behind her. 

“Hey, Esme,” Bella says, returning to the hall. “Can I come in?” 

“Sure, dear,” Esme calls. 

The Library is huge. It’s less of a library than Carlisle’s shelves of books and more of a room filled with filing cabinets and drafting tables. There’s a sleek computer with a monitor so thin it’s practically just glass sitting at the large mahogany desk, and behind it is Esme in an expensive-looking sweater. The thing about Esme is that she doesn’t look all that old. Older than Bella certainly, but not much older than twenty-five. And duh, _vampire_ , but she has gravitas, and her eyes, just past the screen of her computer are warm but intimidating. 

“I came up to say, hello,” Bella says. Esme returns her attention to the screen. 

“Hello Bella, dear. It’s nice to see you as ever. What are you up to today?”

“Just watching Alice work in the garage,” Bella says.

When she puts her hands in her pockets she can feel the cool metal of her bracelet. 

“Is that all?” Esme says.

Vampire hearing. She has to know Bella was in Edward’s room. It had to have sounded like she was slamming cupboards. 

“I think so. Did you need anything?” Bella says. Esme smiles, peeking around the screen again. 

“You’re sweet for asking. You are a guest here, of course.” Bella nods. 

“I guess I’ll go back downstairs and see if Alice needs anyone to hand her tools.” 

Esme’s laugh is perfect, a Julie Andrews laugh. It’s deep and rich and friendly. Bella makes it to the door before Esme speaks again. 

“The boys are all out hunting today, so it’ll be just us girls.” 

“Rosalie said she’d be home later this evening,” Bella says. 

“Just so.” Esme says, “Bella would you be a dear and crack open Edward’s window? We all love the smell of fresh air in the house.” Her eyes pin Bella and nearly steal her breath. 

“No problem.” 

“Thank you, dear,” Esme says. 

Bella returns to Edward’s room. The window is at first difficult to figure out until Bella notices a button on the wall. The seamless pane of glass splits into sections of slatted shutters that let in a fresh gust of air. 

Bella hurries back downstairs to Alice, stopping in the kitchen just for a moment to stuff the bracelet deep into her back pocket. 

"Come on, come on! This is the good part," Alice says eagerly. She hands Bella a ratchet. Bella has the sneaking suspicion that to Alice every part of mechanic work is the good part. 

Alice knows a lot about auto parts, and where she can’t give instructions on magic, she has a wealth of knowledge to give about machinery. Bella’s not certain she’ll remember all of it, but it’s a puzzle she knows she’s only seeing parts of. She unscrews what Alice tells her to unscrew and ratchets what Alice tells her to ratchet. Under Alice’s guidance, none of it seems mysterious, it all seems attainable.

“Sorry, I probably seem really slow to you,” Bella says giving a nut another turn. 

“I don’t mind.” Alice says, “Working with you is fascinating. I can’t see you when I look for you. There’s just this big blank space in the future where I know you should be. 

Typically with something like machinery I can just look ahead to know where something needs to go for it to work. With you, I have to rely on my skills and my knowledge of the car. It's a fun challenge. Like being blindfolded.” 

“You’re not worried I’m going to ruin Jasper's bike?” Bella says nervously. 

“Bella, you could dismantle every part of every vehicle in this garage and mix them up, and I’d still know how it was all meant to go. I’ve tried it before.” Alice winks and hip checks her, “Put this back. Just do the opposite of what you did to pull it out.” Which was easier said than done. 

“Did you ever find that bracelet?” 

“Yeah, I finally found it,” Bella says. “At least I don’t have to worry about finding out what Rosalie looks like when she’s disappointed in someone.” 

“I don’t think Rosalie could be disappointed in you,” Alice says. 

“What do you mean?” Bella says. 

Rosalie was beautiful and elegant, the sort of person who could probably hold onto all of her expensive jewelry at once in a hurricane, even without vampire powers.

“Did Rosalie ever tell you how she was turned?” Alice says. 

“No.” Says Bella. 

“Don’t ask her. Anyway, I think she’s just pleased that things have turned out so well with you and your friends. We all are. That matters more than a bracelet.” Alice reviews Bella's work in the guts of the bike. 

“I really don’t know what I’m looking at here,” Bella says. “Did we fix it?” 

“It wasn’t really broken. It’ll just run smoother now.” 

* * *

  
Bella washes her hands with Gojo in the sink in the garage. It's this gritty soap that scrapes off the grease and maybe a layer of skin with it. 

There’s a change in the pressure of the air in the garage. Suddenly there is a moving, decidedly masculine blur over Jasper's bike. It looks, to Bella’s eye, unchanged. There's no evidence around it, none of the dirt and grime of their work left on the concrete. Alice was good that way. Jasper lifts his face like he’s catching a scent in the air. 

“I may have touched your bike, sorry. It’s just really, um, cool.” Bella says. His eyes are so golden they practically glow in the growing purple dusk from outside. 

“Did Alice?” 

“I don’t know. Alice invited me over to show me how the Porsche works.” The eyes blink. 

“Weren’t you guys supposed to be out later?” Bella says. 

“We came home early. Sudden.”

“Trying to catch Alice in the act?” Bella guessed. 

Jasper laughed. It was a surprising, personable sound to come out of a cryptid. 

“I’ll catch her at it one day. One time she-, hey isn’t it dark in here for you?” 

“I was just heading inside,” Bella says. She locates the light switch, and there’s Jasper; not harmless-looking, but sort of like a bayonet behind glass in a museum. Like he’s not really for that sort of thing anymore. He turns the bike this way and that, looking for something. 

“This one time, she did something to it. Made it run like, did you ever see that movie Tron? It was thrilling, but who knows what it did to the transmission. I never figured it out.” Jasper says. He’s got this little smile like he just can’t help it. 

“She’s inside,” Bella says. 

“I know.” He says. Of course, he would. “Come on, let’s stop hanging around like a couple of ghouls in the garage. Did Alice turn you toward the dark side?” Jasper says. 

“What do you mean?” Bella says. She fishes the bracelet out of her pocket and fixes the clasp on her wrist. She makes room for him to enter, past her into the house. He holds the door out for her thoughtlessly like a gentleman. 

“I mean, has she turned you into a mechanic?” 

“It was really cool, the way it all fit together. Like, it’s a thing, like a factory-thing, but people can just make one.” 

He’s turned that little smile on her. 

“Yeah, she got you. Do yourself a favor and don’t let her near whatever you’re working on. Your truck’ll stand up and fly away or something.” 

They’re intercepted in the hallway by a hulking figure in the hallway's darkness.

“Bella!” Emmett crows. He picks her up under the armpits like a toddler or a cat and lifts her into the air. “What did I say about the friends? You absolutely crushed it! I knew they’d be nuts about you,”

He draws her in close to spin her into the living room. Her feet never touch the ground. Bella hasn’t been picked up, probably since she was about six or seven. She’s laughing so hard at the speed of the spinning that she’s out of breath. She loses her center of gravity when he stops. He lets her drop shrieking out of his arms into the soft landing of the couch cushions. 

Jasper locates a light switch for Bella's benefit. 

“Yeah,” Bella says, wiping her eyes, “I’m super popular now. See if I hang out with you losers again.” 

“We’ve created a monster!” Emmett yells dramatically, collapsing to a knee and pressing his fist to his forehead. 

Bella laughs, holding her stomach as Emmett dramatically enacts a death scene from a boys high school production of Hamlet he did in the sixties. 

“No way, you had to be the most ripped hamlet of all time!” Bella says. 

He flexes his biceps, really putting his shirt through its paces. 

“Yeah, someone was lifting in the state of Denmark. To gain or not to gain, babe. Check this out,” then proceeds to turn dramatic actor poses into a bodybuilder flex routine. 

“I can’t look at this anymore, I’m gonna pee.” Bella blinks open her eyes. Her laughs die as she makes out Edward standing in the kitchen staring at her. Staring at her wrist. Bella clears her throat. Emmett turns and notices Edward. 

Edward’s nostrils flare. He’s so horribly still, and his eyes are bright, well-fed embers. 

“No lookie-loos. In the hang or out, dude.” Emmett says. 

And just as suddenly, he’s blinking too much. An awkward boy who doesn’t know what to do in large groups of people, even when it’s just his family. He winces, it may be supposed to be a smile, but it looks like he’s been stabbed. He retreats up the stairs. 

“Rosie’s home!” Emmett says, with a labrador's joy. 

Rosalie strolls in holding an accordion folder with a handle in one hand with her coat under her arm and her heels in her other hand. Not a hair is out of place, but Bella can see her exhaustion. Emmett waits patiently for her to see him, and when she does she goes beautifully at ease like a disarmed bomb. Bella probably shouldn’t be watching this. It’s like watching someone come home to a person rather than a place, but then Rosalie regards her around Emmett’s shoulder. Bella doesn’t know what to do with the trust. 

“Oh,” Rosalie says looking pleased, “You’re wearing it. I was beginning to think you didn’t like it,” She comes around to sit next to Bella, taking her wrist gently to inspect it. 

“I do!” Bella turns it so the clasp is under her palm. “It's new and way out of my comfort zone, but that might not be bad. It's sort of exciting. I don’t think I would have expected to like it as much as I do, but I’m really happy you gave it to me.” 

Rosalie smiles a smile Bella has never seen on her before, It’s not mean or dry or fake. It’s just happy. 

“Well,” Rosalie says, “It’s nice to have something special, just for yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who stuck around and to everyone who's enjoyed this fic! This is the first long piece of writing I've finished in years and it feels good to get back into the swing of things. More to come and sooner than you'd think.


End file.
